


The New World

by baconfairy



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Death, End of the World, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:02:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23423641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baconfairy/pseuds/baconfairy
Summary: Adam Monroe begins his journey for revenge and destruction.AU post/mid season 2.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	The New World

**Author's Note:**

> Mistakes are my own.   
> Also Adam was tragically underused in Heroes and I never stopped rooting for him.

He is a god. Immortal, powerful, untouchable. 

This new generation is learning, learning ever so gradually that his time is endless. That their dire attempts do nothing to stop him. 

“You think you can kill me?” he jeers to the assassin, struggling against the hands tightening around his throat. “I must warn you. No one has ever succeeded.” 

The nameless man chuckles, hands clench tighter, enjoying the sight of his prey’s blueing face. “But I know your weakness,” the assassin whispers menacingly before he releases one hand, reaches with it for his gun and empties a round into the immortal’s head – into the spot that they all know he can’t come back from.

This generation is slower than the last few. Where they think they find weakness they only find a drawback of the inevitable. They do not seem to grasp the concept of immortality- of what it really means, what future it holds. 

He awakens on a fishing boat a few days later. His wannabe killer had burned his body after the shooting, placed the few remains in a black plastic bag and dumped it into the ocean. 

Clearly an old rickety fishing boat picking up the bag with a fishing net had not come up as a possibility during the killer’s planning. 

He feels his skin knitting back together, still slightly charred from the flames but the effects are soon healed away. His mind is fully restored and aware. The two fishermen who discovered him are muttering incoherently staring at his naked, freshly regenerated body with wide eyes, backed up as far as possible on the dingy boat.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a clean pair of pants would you now?” Adam asks brightly ignoring the looks of astonishment and disbelief.

One of the best lessons learnt from history is that people never learn from history. History is meant to be a teacher. A lesson for the future; A reminder of past mistakes. 

But history can be changed. Altered, falsified. All it takes is one simple lie to be believed, passed and carried from one person to the next and a tale of lies becomes history. History that is embedded into each and everyone as the truth. 

A lie such as the one he divulged to his ‘friends’ of old time. Of his weakness, the ‘Achilles’ heel of all immortals. 

They should have known by now he was always just a lying swindler. 

When they send the next assassin, Adam at first thinks it’s a joke. They wouldn’t be so stupid as to try again. Not when last time failed so miserably. 

Yet when the bullet drills into his brain he knows they aren’t joking. 

He awakens sooner this time, his body already learning and adapting. He stirs just in time to catch the whirring saw inches from decapitating his neck. That might have taken a mite longer to regenerate from. 

“You people really need to learn new tricks,” Adam exasperatingly says to his would-be-killer as he turns the spinning blade on him, blood splattering the room and his clothes. 

He’s getting tired of dying. It’s becoming a nuisance. But he knows they won’t stop. They won’t stop until they are too old or tired to hunt him. Even then he knows they’ll pass the deed to someone else, someone who will be just as eager as they were. 

It’s time to clean house. Wipe away those who have heard of this immortal man. Start anew. Find a fresh generation to teach.

It turns out to be more difficult than intended. 

The virus complicates things. The first and so far only outbreak has been small, contained. Not catching as fast as people would have thought. Or he had hoped. But people are still wary, unsure if the danger has really past. 

And it makes finding certain people more complex.

He finds the first of them just outside New York, never having gone far from her original roots. A queen bee lost without her drones.

“Angela.” He says her name softly, gently. She had believed in him in the start, been one of his faithful disciples before she betrayed him. But for what purpose? From what he has heard her plans for the future ran similar to his own.

She acknowledges him with a curt nod, and then brushes away some imaginary dust from the window sill she had previously been staring through. Unlike others she knows when her time is up, when it’s time to step down from the throne. She doesn’t waste with frivolous conversation. He’s always liked that about her. 

So instead she curses him with all she can, “I hope you burn in hell.” 

Adam shoots the bullet right between her cold eyes. 

He doesn’t believe in hell. Or heaven. Or God for that matter. 

400 years on Earth has revealed nothing. No signs, no miracles. Just humanity evolving with more people gaining abilities every time. These abilities are not God-sent. Not as first believed. It was just humanity acting as any other type of species, changing, advancing; the survival of the fittest coming into play. 

The rest of the Company is easy to take care of. Not knowing their leader has been overthrown and finished, they carry on with their normalcy. Panic ensues when Adam walks right in, alarms blare and people rush back and forth. He pays no attention to the bullets flying high (a few even hit him) as he makes his way to the heart of the facility. 

He ends the Company, the Company he started, by pressing the button attached to the bomb on his chest. 

It becomes unfamiliar territory after that. His normal adversaries wiped out, he is left with the more challenging ones. But he has experience in hunting and being hunted. He knows how they will think and move. 

The mind reader is working for a small private security firm in LA when he strolls in. 

“Matt Parkman” he reads the nameplate on the desk out loud. 

Matt Parkman doesn’t look up from his paperwork, “Yeah?” 

Adam just waits, grins, and broadcasts out his thoughts as loud as possible. 

The large man almost jumps out of his seat and his hand fumbles for his gun as recognition hits and intertwines with Adam’s deadly thoughts. 

He is barely on his feet before Adam has the piano wire tightened around Parkman’s throat. 

After a few minutes, Adam places the heavy, limp body back on the desk chair. 

He steals from the firm’s safe and makes it look like a robbery gone bad. Partly for the cover-up and partly cause he needed a new suit. 

It was never really about the money. An immense benefit none the less but the underlying factor beneath it all was not the wealth of the world. It was the power; The control; The ideology of being worshipped by all mankind. The rest would follow soon enough. 

When he encounters her it’s completely accidental. 

He walks one way down the crowded street, she walks the other. When both their blue eyes meet through the swarm of people going on through their everyday lives, it sends a bolt of alarm through her that Adam easily reads on her pretty, now pale, petite face. To her eyes he must appear as a ghost from long ago and the idea makes him grin. 

He can almost hear the cackling of electricity that struggles to be kept under control, amongst the throngs of people. Elle may be somewhat mentally unstable but she was not as dim witted as to attack him in a highly populated area full of unwanted witnesses. 

Adam remains staring into her narrowing blue eyes, a wide smirk on his own face, as he gestures towards an alley next to him with a tilt of his head. Then he turns around and heads into the abandoned alley knowing she’ll be right behind him.

They are barely concealed from the rest of the city before a blast of electricity hits him from behind and sends him crashing into the brick wall.

It stings, hurts and burns. Within seconds though, it’s as if it had never happened and he rises to his feet, holds up his hands for a truce. 

Elle glares at him from beneath her bangs, her hair longer than ever and it looks like she hasn’t cut it for a while. Her hands spark with blue light, it dances on her fingertips and he knows she’s just itching for another reason to zap him. Not that she usually needs one anyway. 

“I know how you feel, love.” 

She flinches and narrows her eyes even more. Her hands remain risen but it no longer looks like she’s going to try to kill him again. 

“They’ve left you. Discarded you when they finished using you. As if you were nothing to them. They did the same to me. I’m only seeking my retribution.” 

Elle doesn’t say anything. Hasn’t this old time. Adam notices that her bright blue eyes, normally sparkling with life and mischievous, are instead dull and lifeless. Her whole face is sunken in as if she hasn’t slept in days, or eaten for that matter. 

She doesn’t want to fight for the first time in her life. She doesn’t even bother discerning the truth and the lies spilling from his mouth. She’s already given up. Even an appearance of a foe like him barely brings that usual aggressiveness back. She’s lost. Been set adrift in a world that holds no answers or meaning to her; A caged animal that just desires for one more last day in the wild. 

“I can set you free,” Adam promises. 

Elle warily approaches him, hands no longer flickering with the deadly energy. Then she kisses him, her smooth lips press against his. There is no love in this. No sparks, no pain. No hint of the old Elle. This strange, dying creature before him kisses harder, not really looking for anything but soothing comfort in her fading days. 

And he is going to give it to her. 

Underneath Elle’s layers of psychosis she was still that scared, lost little girl being brought in the Company for testing. In her mind, she would never be able to escape them fully. She would always remember those days of pain and betrayals, haunting her footsteps, forever being tormented by her so-called-father’s lies. So Adam knows what he can do for her. 

When Elle is peacefully asleep, Adam shifts from the bed, goes into the motel bathroom and fills the bathtub with water. Then he returns to the room, takes her sleeping form in his arms and lays her tenderly in the water-filled tub. 

With a loud screech, she wakes, arms shooting out in all directions. Adam just gently pushes her blonde head under the water and ignores the killing pain from the thousands of volts being transferred through the liquid and from Elle.

The lights go out and the bathroom is pitch-black save for the random spurts of blue flickering light from the flailing body in the water. The room smells of burning flesh, and Adam observes that most of the skin on his arms is gone.

The naked body in the water stops struggling but Adam keeps her head under just to be certain. 

He set her free. The best gift he could give her. A gift to them both. 

Adam has traveled the world; Journeyed to every major city, seen monuments in all their glory of first years of creation. And even as the world changed, civilizations springing up left and right, he has never forgot what they used to look like in their untouched beauty; Untouched by the hands of this so called technological age. 

Every so often he feels the need to travel once more. Visit the sites of old time. Just to get a taste of the places and time he once called home. But they are always different, changed. Never the same. They have been modernized. Steel cold towers replacing the heart of a free wild. 

He is strangely drawn towards Japan. It is not his home, not his birthplace but it entices him like no other. His history there is short, and it always brings the back the first painful memory of betrayal from long ago. 

So he decides it’s time to makes new memories. 

It’s not difficult to break into the downtown apartment in Tokyo. In fact it’s downright easy. And there he just waits, waits for his prey to fly into his web. 

It’s not long before the door opens, and his quarry steps into the room, not noticing anything amiss.

Adam doesn’t bother with introductions. He presses the steel firm nose of the gun against the Japanese man’s back, pleased when he goes stiff and arms rise in immediate surrender. 

“I don’t have much money,” Ando says in Japanese, his tone petrified and hurried, “But whatever you find is yours.” 

“I don’t need your money Ando Masahashi,” Adam coldly informs him in his own flawless Japanese, his bitterness clear but he knows he’s going to enjoy this far more than he should. “Just you.” 

Terrified for his life and worried about the gun that never wavers from him, Ando does as told. The note is written by Ando’s hands, marked for Hiro and placed in the appropriate place. 

“What now?” Ando asks, this time in English. He is quivering slightly; his eyes never leave the gun in Adam’s skilled hands.

Adam smirks. He should have thought of this long ago. He only wishes he could be there. See the look on his face when he finds the note. 

“Now,” he begins, saying his words slowly and carefully so they can have their full effect. “Now you’re going to kill yourself.”

Adam doesn’t stick around after. He would love to stay but then the charade would become apparent and spoiled.

And what better way to strike at someone, then to have their best friend seemingly kill themselves and place the blame upon that person? A perfect self-fulfilling stab to the heart; A betrayal of friendship. Adam can just imagine the guilt Hiro will feel. But ‘Ando’ left instructions not to go back and save him, and Adam knows Hiro will obey his best friend’s last wish. So for now, he will just let the guilt sit, and fester. 

Haiti is next on his list. 

A country far behind the rest of the world, so Adam almost feels as if he stepped back in time. He’s been here once, maybe twice. It’s hardly changed. 

He likes it that way. 

People are all too soon to change. Eager to move on to the ‘better’. But the grass isn’t always greener on the other side. And change is mostly that of the worst. Sometimes he wishes people would slow down, but maybe it because they don’t have all the time in the world like he does, so they live as fast-paced as humanly possible. 

Here, Adam is extra careful. He has never been completely sure of the Haitian’s full potential; A true wild card. And an impending problem for Adam that just waits to emerge. So he has to be deal with it swiftly and efficiently.

He finds a nice uphill view of the small village, a good hiding spot located by brush and jungle. 

Adam sets up there and waits patiently. Soon he is able to see the Haitian arrive through the lens of the scope as he passes slowly through the village market. When the Haitian steps clear of anything that might interfere, Adam flicks a button and a red dot appears over the Haitian’s chest and steadily climbs to his head. 

The Haitian’s head rises and he gazes wordlessly over to where Adam is hidden. He seems to stare straight into Adam’s eyes over the distance and he’s not running or going for cover. In fact he’s looking in Adam’s direction almost condemningly. Like he has a say in what Adam does and if it’s right or wrong. 

Adam terminates that problem with the help of the sniper rifle clenched in his hands. 

Patience is a virtue. And you’d think that after 400 years he would have learned that well. But he has no patience now. No tolerance for time. His revenge, 400 years in the making, have finally hit its peak. 

He feels giddy, excited; Like a child almost. Emotions he hasn’t felt in a while; Emotions that have long since become repetitive and uninteresting; Emotions that he can now barely contain. 

He arrives in Japan within a few days only to find Yamagato Industries in disarray. Since the death of Kaito, Hiro has been the head of the business but now no one is. 

“Mr. Nakamura hasn’t been to his Yamagato office since before the funeral, two weeks ago,” the polite receptionist at the front desk ever so kindly informs him. 

Two weeks. Two weeks for the guilty conscious to eat away at Hiro’s heart and soul. Break him down, make him feel the bitterness and anguish of heartbreaking pain. Two weeks for Hiro to know how he felt. What he suffered through; What he is forced to live through. And then two weeks is not nearly enough time compared to his 400 years. 

But maybe it has more effect than Adam thinks. 

Hiro Nakamura, his nemesis, his archenemy of 4 centuries; the composed, eager, hero of the world that bested every villain before him. And Adam finds him sitting in a nearly empty bar, utterly drunk. 

Adam hands clench tightly to the Kensei sword at the sight of his old foe, the sword that he stole from Hiro’s deserted home prior to coming here. 

“Hello Carp.” He announces, paying no attention to the strange looks from the few people still sitting in the room. 

Hiro squints, tries to focus on Adam with blurry vision. “Kensei?” he slurs. 

“Yes.”

For a moment Hiro appears confused, then fear and alarm flicker on his Asian features. But in his drunken state it doesn’t last long and it is replaced with an intoxicated look of scepticism. 

“You’re…. not here. You can’t be here. I must be imagining. Billain.” 

Hiro is switching between Japanese and English, unable to maintain a grasp on even simple conversation. The alcohol is working in his mind, keeping him from discerning reality from drunken hallucinations.

Adam doesn’t bother replying to Hiro’s accusations of disbelief. He instead probes at the one spot he knows Hiro is weakest at.

“I heard about your friend Ando. And how he killed himself.”

At the mention of his friend’s name, Hiro takes an unsteady swig of his beer almost tipping off his stool. His eyes are bloodshot from days of drinking and now they glisten with silent tears. 

“Ando-kun.” Hiro says his name softly, voice full of remorse and shame. “He is dead.” 

Hiro is radiating of pure gratifying guilt and Adam can taste the sweetness of revenge at work. 

And Adam revelled it all in.

“Yes, Hiro. He’s dead. And that blame is on you.” 

“I betrayed you. Turned you into a villain. That was my fault as well. And Ando...” Hiro stops to take another drink, and then sullenly continues with his drunken confession, “…Ando was right. Why do I always have to save the world?” Adam’s nemesis stumbles over the last few words, turning to stare at Adam with glazed eyes. 

“You needn’t worry about that anymore Carp.”

Adam unsheathes the ancient Samurai sword. The sword that rightfully belongs to him, a sword that symbolizes the heroic deeds of the great, legendary, Takezo Kensei and Adam stabs that blade into the heart of Hiro Nakamura. 

His greatest act of revenge is complete. Hiro, who made Adam aware of who he was; Hiro, who was more than a friend; Hiro, who is his ultimate betrayer, is finally dead. 

Four hundred years and he’s never felt such a thing. This bittersweet vengeance is coursing through his veins, feeding away at the little left of what is his soul and Adam knows it still isn’t yet finished.

When he returns to the States, the Nation is in panic. 

There has been a mass outbreak of the virus in New Orleans. But this strand is unlike the others. It has mutated, became a force to be reckoned with. 

In a way Adam sees the virus like himself. Sleeping, waiting for a great time, almost forgotten amidst the passage of time. Then he bursts out, an explosion of deadly revenge and elimination, catching the rest of the world unawares. Every blow he lays upon them is lethal and when they think they have him under control he continues to transform into their ever growing nightmare. 

Pictures of the catastrophe in New Orleans paint the front pages of all the newspapers. The reporters have selected one main photo in particular to become the face of the tragedy, a photo of a rather pretty woman’s lifeless body, arms still grasping around her also deceased son.

With these reports, a new face begins to appear. Nathan Petrelli- The nation’s hero in a dark time. He is on his way to Presidency with just the election a week away. He is the face of hope. Of dreams. He is going to lead the world into a new era. 

And he is also the brother of Peter Petrelli. 

He’s not going to do this just for the revenge. The world is not ready to change. It is not fit to come into a new age. It has not suffered enough. Not been broken. The filth of the Earth still remains. It is tainted. The disease of mankind has not been healed. It will only continue to spill onto the next generation and carry on to defile the world. 

So hope must first be diminished if humanity is meant to survive. 

Nathan Petrelli wins the President seat in a landslide. He has more votes in favour then seen in centuries. 

At his victory speech, the one being broadcast Nation wide; Adam gets close enough to put four bullets into Petrelli’s chest. 

The secret service agents protecting the now-dead President swarm over Adam, capturing him. Within hours he is shipped to Guantanamo Bay-The home for terrorists; Maximum Security; The end of the road. 

People never cease to underestimate him. To misjudge what he is capable of. Adam has always used their miscalculation to his benefit. He has abilities yes, but he is something different than the rest. He is more powerful than anyone thinks. But that does not stop him from gathering an ally into his midst. 

So within weeks end he escapes and he is not alone. 

With him is a man called Sylar. A serial killer. And even that does not begin to define the man. Sylar is complicated very much like himself. Their goals and their beliefs stand together. Everything they have done and will do is an ‘evolution imperative’ as Sylar puts it. 

So they work together for now, a harmonized insanity with the same basis: To fix the world. And to do that Adam must first accomplish his current goals that were recently put on hold by the little vacation in the States’ jail cells. 

Peter Petrelli- the last, but one of the most important names on his list. What surprises him is the lack of appearance from the empath. He had suspected that by now Peter would be scouring the globe, looking for him, seeking revenge for his brother’s murder and if he knows Peter, which he does, he would have found him by now. 

Unless of course Peter is already dead, which Adam highly doubts. 

And he is already tired of waiting for Peter to come to him. 

The late President Nathan Petrelli had a rather interesting advisor during his political run. A geneticist. Using old Company files he’s determines that Mohinder Suresh does indeed have something Adam needs. Suresh has in his possession a rather remarkable person; A tracker; Someone who can find anyone in the world. Anyone. Anywhere. 

His partner is helpful in this area, seeing as he has what he calls an ‘interesting history’ with the doctor. So Suresh is easily tracked down. 

This time Adam knocks on the door. 

The Indian man comes to answer it, wearing a white lab coat. “Can I help you?” he asks, eyeing Adam with a curious and guarded look.

“Mohinder Suresh?” Adam says out of courtesy. He knows that this is him, but he can’t stop himself from playing these little games that he enjoys so much.

“Yes.” 

Adam raises his firearm smoothly, pointing it straight at the doctor’s chest. “Please, let’s step inside.”

Suresh looks at him with horror, but to his credit doesn’t attempt anything stupid. He complies, and steps back into the loft-turned-lab, Adam following closely with the gun.

When they are in the middle of the room, standing near lab equipment and desks piled with papers, does Suresh finally speak up.

“Who the hell are you?” 

Adam tilts his head curiously. For someone who is being threatened, Suresh is rather calm. So he answers him, a prize for his lack of fear. “My name is Adam.”

The doctor stills, fear spreading onto his dark, caramel features. “…Monroe?”

“Is there any other?”

“Oh my god.”

Suresh then moves faster then expected, grabbing a piece of loose equipment and slamming it hard into Adam’s face. The force and surprise of it sends him reeling, the gun dropping to the floor, which Mohinder immediately goes for. 

Before he can move, Suresh fires two shots off, both penetrating his chest. But then he is up, already healing, the bullets being pushed out as skin knits together. 

Adam glares, annoyed and irritated at another shirt ruined. “My dear doctor, that was a stupid mistake.” 

The geneticist moves to squeeze the trigger again, but an invisible force rips the gun from his hands. 

Sylar stands in the doorway, having finally decided to make his appearance, hand raised, using his telekinesis to keep the doctor stationary. “Mohinder,” he says coolly.

“No.” Mohinder’s face is contorted in complete fear that easily beats out the look from Adam’s arrival, revealing that there is more to their story than Sylar originally let on. 

Eager to get this reunion over with, Adam steps forward and delivers a swift blow the man’s head, dropping him out cold to the floor before another word can be said. Behind him Sylar growls disapprovingly, obviously annoyed he couldn’t continue his cat and mouse game with the doctor. 

Shaking his head slightly and stepping further into the makeshift lab, Adam heads into the room behind the door. Within seconds he finds the girl, hiding behind some furniture, crouched protectively into herself.

The child is shivering in fear, blinking back small tears. 

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Adam says reassuringly as he squats down so he is at eye level with Molly. “I just need you to find someone for me.” 

“Where’s Mohinder?” Molly asks in small, timid voice. 

“In the other room. Don’t worry he’s not dead.” Adam can see the terror the girl is so desperately trying to hold back despite obviously having heard the gunshots. “And he’s going to stay that way only if you help me.” 

Molly sniffles, shaking her small head in a nod. 

At this Adam smiles encouragingly. “I need you to find Peter Petrelli. Do you know who he is?” 

Molly nods again, “yes.” 

It’s a shame really. So young, with so much potential. But even one such as her, with that ability, it’s dangerous to him. So as soon as Adam has Peter’s location, he smiles down at Molly once more and locks the door on his way out of the backroom. 

He steps over the unconscious body of Suresh, and grabs the container he left placed by the entrance. 

Adam sprays the liquid over the main parts of the lab, not really caring where it lands, intent to make sure there can be no recovery or rescue. 

“Stop.” 

The word is soft and low, so at first he doesn’t hear it and he continues spreading the flammable liquid. 

“Stop,” Sylar growls again and Adam is frozen as telekinetic tendrils hold him place. 

Furious at Sylar’s use of powers on him Adam says coldly, “We can’t let him live. He’ll warn the others. And I’ve come too far to allow a mere geneticist to hinder me or my plans.” 

The killer gives him a dark look full of venom but as Adam easily returns the gaze, Sylar releases his mental hold. 

Once again in use of his limbs, Adam sets the red container down, liquid sloshing inside. The former serial killer is looking down at the unconscious doctor thoughtfully, transfixed, almost admirably. A rare thing indeed. 

After a moment, Sylar redirects his gaze back to him, face contorting back to it’s hardness and loathing. If they didn’t work so well together, with their similar goals, he is sure they’d be fighting to the death at this moment. 

“You’re not killing him.” Sylar orders, daring Adam with his dark eyes to voice otherwise. 

Adam just blinks, the demand strangely not surprising at all. He has no intention of taking the bait though, and risk aggravating this demi-god. 

“What do you propose?” 

Sylar grins widely, knowing he’s won this silent dispute. “I’ll take care of him. With me he poses no threat to you or your plans.” He silently mocks as he crouches down beside the doctor. “Besides in this interesting future of yours someone likes Mohinder can be very useful. Very useful.” Sylar purrs, running a finger across Suresh’s still check. 

There is more to it than Sylar is saying and Adam looks at the doctor with renewed interest. Perhaps there is something Suresh knows, information he can use but Sylar’s stance has now become predatorily and protective at Adam’s look of interest. 

“And the girl?” Adam cautiously voices. 

Sylar shrugs. “I don’t care.”

Adam nods briskly. “Alright.” 

Whatever secrets Sylar holds, he will not learn them today and that is fine with him. He has years to glean them out. And with the virus amok and spreading faster it is unlikely the doctor will survive. But if he does by some chance he knows Sylar will keep his word and keep Suresh away from the rest of the world. For now at least.

Adam is no fool. 

Clearly Sylar is only to be trusted to a certain degree and at the time being they remain unsteady allies. For once the dust of mayhem and of the disease settle they will most certainly be at odds After all, two gods cannot rule one Earth. 

But Sylar is a worthy adversary and Adam look forward to their confrontation in the new world. 

“Aright,” he says again. “Take your dear doctor and go.”

Sylar stares silently for a bit, as if trying to discern Adam’s thoughts, before quietly gathering the unconscious Mohinder in his arms and without another word or goodbye, goes out the loft door, it clicking behind him as it shuts. 

Giving the loft one last look over, Adam pulls the lighter from his pocket.

He leaves the loft without a second thought, the flames already reaching for the roof. 

It’s almost complete.

A wave of unexpected relief washes over him at the thought of being finished. Though he often craves excitement and adventure, the last while has been more than enough to last him a century. So as soon as all this done, Adam thinks he will settle down somewhere and wait for mankind to change, to become what it was meant to be, before making a reappearance in the new world. 

The virus is now doing what it was made to do in full force. As it stands 70% of the world’s population is either dead or infected. There is no place out of it’s reach, no place where they can find refugee. It is a monster and he is it’s creator. 

According to the little girl, Peter has been hiding out in the mountains, far from human civilization, which would explain why he has yet to show his face. So Adam takes the long trek up to the mountain cabin. Not at all surprised when Peter teleports in front of him as soon as he sets foot in the one room cabin. 

“Adam.”

The empath is glaring at him, emitting anger and pain, and his hands glow with a searing heat. Peter often looks like he could be a lost innocent puppy with his sorrowful eyes but now he is more like a dangerous, cross, pit bull that threatens to strike if Adam steps wrongfully. 

Adam thinks he should be afraid but instead he is frustrated. “Well it’s about bloody time you showed up. I was beginning to worry.”

“What the hell did you do?” 

Peter must be reading his mind, discovering his actions of late and that of the outside world’s. 

“Isn’t it obvious? Changing the world. Saving it if you will.” 

Peter tries to compose himself, about to break down any second as the thoughts flow into him. “Why?” He manages to struggle out, his face a mosaic of emotions. Pain is now overrunning his features, dark eyes full of agony but the rage lingers still, about to overflow any second.

“I had to.” It’s as simple as that. So basic yet no one seems to be able to understand. Another reason why he has long since given up explaining himself to others. 

“Nathan?” Peter gasps as he comes across that certain thought and memory. 

Adam sighs at the mention of the late-Petrelli. It was bound to come down to this. Peter is blind to everything else when it comes to his brother. No matter what he says now, nothing will change Peter’s opinion. “Collateral damage in the world’s journey to salvation.” 

“That’s all he is to you?” Peter shouts, stepping closer, bursts of flame shooting out in one hand and blue electricity in the other, all while emitting a rather uneasy glow. “Collateral damage?! He was my brother!” 

“Easy Peter, don’t let your emotions get the better of you.” Adam says calmly not even bothering to step back from the glowering man. 

“I should never have trusted you. I should have hunted you down after that day in Odessa and killed you myself.” 

Adam tilts his head, eyeing Peter sadly. “I’m sorry you think that.”

Peter raises his arm, hand facing directly at the immortal. “I can still kill you now.” At those words, the empath fires a blast of nuclear energy that Adam barely manages to roll out of the way of. He feels the residual waves melt the back of his shirt along with a small spasm of hot pain that soon is healed away. 

Then Peter is on him, punching with extreme force and unnatural superhuman strength. “You murdered him!” He hears the empath blindly shout among punches. 

There is the all too familiar taste of blood in Adam’s mouth, and just as Peter rears back to strike again, Adam grabs his arm and throws him off. 

They stand simultaneously, facing each other, walking around in a cautious circle. Then Adam rushes Peter only to be met with a blast of electricity that sends him lurching across the room. 

Peter follows, about to grab him from behind when Adam grsps a crowbar from the floor and uses it to smack Peter across the head. He only manages to get one more blow before the bar sails out of his hands through the obvious use of Peter’s telekinesis. Raising his fist to smack Peter in the face using nothing but his sheer strength Adam is surprised when he finds himself unable to move. 

Peter is looking at him with a hate and fury, any hint of wariness or empathy gone, while also keeping him immobile. 

“Impressive.” Adam coolly says, not worried in the slightest. He knows Peter wants to kill him; Will try to kill him. But what the dark-haired boy doesn’t know is that it is foolhardy. And he will learn that soon enough. 

With a cry of outrage, Peter envelops Adam’s stationary form in flames. The flame pours from the empath’s outstretched hands, till all Adam can see is the blazing fire. It is white hot, agonizing and Adam feels his flesh melting off him, bubbling as the heat licks at his skin, working too fast to give him a chance to heal. And for a moment the pain is completely overwhelming, and he has to suppress the urge to cry out but he will not, can not give Peter the satisfaction of seeing him in any type of pain. 

Gathering his willpower, blind against the flames, Adam fumbles for his weapon, hands screaming in agony as it makes contact with heated metal. As soon as he grasps the sword he sends it through the blaze and into Peter’s chest. He knows that it will heal soon enough but it does its job and the flow of the fire stops as Peter stumbles backwards, gasping at the sudden intrusion.

He takes this opportunity to grab the nearest object and bashes it fiercely against Peter’s head, slamming him down to his knees. 

Adam takes a quick breath into rapidly regenerating lungs. Having 400 years of practice also means he has an edge on Peter’s regenerative skills; Adam’s being more immediate and speedy. 

The sword is still penetrating out from Peter’s chest and Peter shakily reaches to pull it out but Adam is already there sliding the blade out and then roughly stabbing it back in again. 

“The thing about empaths is that…” 

Adam grabs the back of Peter’s head with one hand.

“…though they can mimic the ability of anyone, their copy of that power…” 

With his other hand he strikes Peter across the face with a vicious blow.

“…will never be as powerful as that of the original.”

Blood is streaming from Peter’s mouth, and nose and his head wobbles when Adam releases his hold on him. Moving fast to prevent the empath from getting a hold of himself or healing, Adam quickly pulls the katana out once again, setting the tip at the crook of Peter’s neck. 

“You may think you are invincible Peter, but you are far from it.” With that Adam swings the sword, severing head from body.

Unlike himself there is no coming back from that one for Peter. 

Man is beginning to fight among themselves, what is left of them. Blame being passed on from one to the next. They are leaderless, sunken in chaos and they are dying. 90% of mankind has now passed on, almost wiped completely off the face of the Earth. 

They will all be martyrs for the coming of the New World. Peter, Nathan, Hiro, all of them. Their deaths are the pinnacle point, the darkest period before the dawn. 

Already there has been word of a group of survivors up North in Canada. A small shard of hope in this dim time of grief and suffering. 

But it is not finished. The virus still rages on, but soon he reveal himself and his cure- His own life-giving, all-healing, blood. 

He will become their Saviour. 

Their God.

And the world will finally be saved.


End file.
